Diary of a Anonymous Hero
by Nuky
Summary: PLATOON: Lerner tries to survive after a horrable massacre in his camp. Its a long a cruel path back to base. Gooks are on the hunt, his friend has a disturbing secret to share. And keeping sane in the green hell gets harder every day.
1. He died in hell

**I see myself as a bit awkward, here I am an 18-year-old girl and I started to write about a war long ago fought before I was ever born. But after the movie Platoon that war fascinates me and I duck deep into some books and documents. (And some other movies of course.) I'm at page 70 with this story and chapter one is a try out if I should put more of it online. **

**So, I'm very nervous about putting some of it online and please don't be too judgemental about it. I tried real hard to make something realistic.**

**Disclaim: Lerner belongs in Platoon, not in my story. **

**Warning: It's a story about war, so blood, violence and angst ahead. O, and English is my second language, I'm dyslectic and I don't have a beta. So there might be some wrong spelling. **

**Chapter one, He died in hell. **

He'd known the stories but never in his whole life had he believed it was this bad. He'd survived till day hundred. And now he'd been shot into one bloody crying mess. Day hundred-and-one and he was going to die. He was not going to make it. He was not going to see his family again. His blood ran everywhere except in his body. He cried out and tried to push himself to a quiet place where he could die.

"Lerner! Lerner!" Someone called to him. In a flash he opened his eyes and tried to speak. 'Don't come for me, don't try to save me, I'm wasted.' He wanted to scream. But no words came out of his mouth, just blood and spit.

But before he knew it a soldier came running to him. A body duck next to him and he could feel the man tremble from adrenaline.

"I'm getting you out of here!" The man ensured him and fired a few shots. Lerner tried to shake his head. 'Get yourself out of this mess, run while you still have a chance.'

The man could not hear his pitiful pleads and didn't seem to get out of ammo. He watched as the other shot and killed the gook that shot him before. The battlefield around him was a mess, one bloody mess from dead men, fighting men and dying men.

'This is hell.' Lerner thought when his saviour pulled him over his shoulders. He tried to hold his hurting upper arm that got tossed from side to side. The pain only made it feel like his arm belonged to him. He couldn't move it and tried to stop slipping in the dark.

He got placed on the ground, in grassy mud next to a few other wounded men, some of them already dead. Fear rushed through his body when his saviour let him go and turned to go back to war, back to hell.

At once he found his voice back. "Don't leave me man. Don't go." He wasn't sure anyone could hear him. The rain seeped in his mouth making him shake in a mixture of blood and water. "Don't go, please." He squeezed the hand he held so tight. If he would leave him now he would die, he knew for sure. Alone he would die.

His saviour didn't react to his pleads, just gave him a long look. In his eyes lay so much emotion, so much hurt and so much pain_. 'Why am I here.'_ He could see the worlds lay in the gaze. Then the man stood up in a flash and ran away.

He was all alone, a good thing it was raining, nobody would see the tears running down his face. He felt his body become cold and numb, expect for the places the bullets had pierced throw his flesh. There was so much blood, everywhere. His army clothes were soaked and he shivered insanely.

"Help!" He managed to say. His eyes shot from side to side, looking for a person that could help him. Or at least be beside him when he was going to die. "Please someone! Help me!" His fear was so big, it surprised him he hadn't wiped his paints. 'Please anyone…' His eyes slowly turned back and he was too weak to spit out the blood and rain. He would die choking in his own blood.

But someone sat down by his side, pulled his upper body up and smacked him on his back. Coughing and spitting he came back to earth, when the biggest part of the fluid in his mouth was gone, his head snapped back and he stared with large eyes at the boy that prevented him from dying. It was a rockie no doubt, still very young with a shaved head and not the tiniest hair to spot on his chin. The boy screamed something to another, a part of his front teeth was missing.

"'S ok, you're going to make it, man. You'll survive this mess." The boy assured him. He grabbed both of his shoulders and dragged him to the nearest tree. He was put in a sitting position and he vaguely spotted a helicopter landing close by.

"You're going with the next one." The boy told him and tore a piece off his jacket. He took a look at the bullet hole in his upper arm and pulled the torn fabric around it, making a tourniquet. With a knife the boy cut his pants off above the wounds in his legs. It hurt and he started to feel sick seeing the bleeding holes in his body. His head snapped back.

The boy slapped him in the face, hard and when he didn't react immediately he slapped him again. He moaned when the pain came back in a rush and stared at the boy that tied the last piece of fabric around his leg.

"Your name's Lerner right?" He asked and waved his hand in front of his eyes. Lerner nodded slowly and felt a new trail of blood run down his mouth. The boy wiped it off with his sleeve. "'Kay, I need you to do one thing, Lerner. Stay awake. You need to _stay awake_. Got that?" He grabbed his hand and held it tight.

He nodded again while he felt his head starting to thumb and pound. The boy took his chin and shook his head. "Don't dare quitting now man, don't you dare dying. You're not going to, not today!" The boy looked around for help but nobody came. So instead he slapped Lerner in the face a couple more times. "Tell me something about your home."

'Home?' Lerner looked at the boy a bit surprised, not sure if he heard him correct. 'Home, that was some long time ago.' He remembered his mom waving him away with fresh new tears in her eyes. His dad didn't have the desire to show up at the airport. The man was too bitter to say goodbye to his only son and had chosen to stay home and drink his beer sitting in his old chair like always. But his grandpa had been there, as he always had been. Giving him a last hug and telling him how proud he was his grandson was going to fight for their country. And his sis had been there, but she was too young to understand where her brother was going. She was just five and only cried, holding on to her mother's skirts.

A hand slapped him back to the cold, the mud and the pain.

"Stay _awake_, Lerner!" The boy said. "C'mon tell me your reason to stay alive. What do you want to do when you're going home." The boy's eyes pierced into his and he saw the boy was scared too, dead frightened. It was like looking into the mirror, all the same emotions.

"I wanna buy a boat." He spoke out bluntly. He'd always wanted that, having his own ship and sailing away. Being free and not been bound. "Like my grandpa had, long ago." He remembered his grandpa taking him to the beach one time. He'd been standing in the wet sand, mouth dropped and his eyes gazed on a gigantic ship ready to sail away. "I wanna be free and sail away." He confessed.

"That's good, that's good. Hold that thought." The boy said and checked his pulse. The boy's eyes looked up, quickly he started to wave. "Wounded man down! I need some help!" Then he looked back at Lerner. "You're going to be alright. I heard the nurses in the hospital are particularly nice to wounded soldiers. Just hold on man, stay alive." The boy took his rosary that was fumbled around the binding of his helmet. "Keep up your faith, Lerner." He pushed the tiny silver cross in his hand and let two other stronger men lift him up a stretcher.

As soon as he lay down the two men grabbed the grips and pulled him up. His body jolted, the sudden movements made him realise in what bad shape he was. He coughed and grabbed the necklace tighter. Suddenly it got to him, he hadn't thanked the boy that saved him. With his last power he dragged his head up and stared in a haze to the tree the boy had been sitting. His eyes tried to spot him out of the mess existing of fighting men, but he couldn't see the kid.

He gasped and let his body ease. For one last moment he looked up at the sky. 'Why?' Lerner thought. 'Why?!'

**Short first chapter, I am aware of that. But as I said, it's a tryout. So give your opinion and if it's any good I'll update more.**

**Nuky **


	2. Rebirth

**NaranjaGold, this chapter is for you because you're the only other person on this whole damn site who loves Platoon-fics.**

**Chapter 2, Rebirth **

He couldn't remember anything on his way back to the basis. It was a blur of past and present. He couldn't speak, couldn't breath it seemed. Some moments he thought he was still in the mud while the rain filled his mouth. Sometimes someone hold him up so he could puke his blood out. He could hear them talking about him, some thought he was a goner. He blinked and with half closed eyes he looked up.

They'd placed him on the ground in a row with other wounded man. On his left lay some body bags. His stomach made a turn and quickly he looked away. He didn't want to think of who of his friends might be in them.

So he looked up, it gave him a bit more air, wind flew through the helicopter. They where high in the air, he could see the jungle far beneath him. Far, far down his platoon was still fighting.

The smell of blood was in the air, all around him. With a hint of gunpowder. And… and fear. It was a strange and sick thing to smell, fear. A mix of sweat, tears and desperation. Sickening to know so many other man smelled like that at the exact same moment.

Lerner felt light-headed, the continually changing of the helicopter made his head spin. His eyes took a face to focus on. It was King, it took him a second to realise that. The Afro-American was holding his bleeding head, but he seemed pretty much alright. Compared to the other dying man, that was. The man gave him a watery smile, it hurt it was all over his face.

He tried to smile back, but failed horribly. In stead he started to cough, his chest jerked up and a mouth full of blood got spilled all over his army shirt.

'No, no more blood.' The red stuff seemed to leak out of every place.

"Don't keep in it Lerner, spit it all out." King told him when he gagged and clutched his hand around his chest.

Not very convincing he nodded and tried to stop ragging. It seemed to work when he counted the breathes he took in his head. 'Just keep thinking of something else.' He thought. His breathing started to get a little more even. His body still hurt, but not as much as he remember.

'Must getting in shock.' He thought, he knew the adrenaline was wearing off, it was so hard to keep his eyes from closing. 'Keep counting. Don't fall asleep. Don't die, if you do you wasted a change for someone else. Stay awake, don't let this be for nothing.' He started to count again and kept staring at King, that seemed to get more and more nervous about his friend's piercing look. 'Think about the boot, think about home. Christ just think of anything but the pain and falling asleep.'

First he felt his body parts become numb, soon his chest and head followed.

"Where almost there, Lerner. Almost home." King said watching his friend's desperate look. Lerner blinked to let King know he was still alive, but he surely didn't feel like it. Black spots started to appear every time his gaze moved. He tried to keep staring at King, but he couldn't lift his head up. In fact he couldn't move anything, only blink and look around.

'Please don't let me stay this way. I don't want to live this way!' He pleaded and hoped his fist still hold the rosary. 'Please don't send me back home like this, run a bullet through my head.' If his grandpa would see him like this. His mom would have to care for him for the rest of her life, his sis would grow old with a retarded war brother. And his dad… he wouldn't even look at his flesh and blood, not to a son in a wheelchair.

He didn't even feel the helicopter hit the ground, he saw some man around him meander in pain when the ten thousand pond machine landed. Quickly strong soldiers jumped in and first took the body bags to make way for the survivors.

Lerner watched from the corners of his eyes at the body bags that got tossed on a long trolley. Sudden two man pulled his stretch up and carefully walked him out of the heli.

"Is he still alive?" A soldier with a notebook asked in a hurry. The front soldier who hold him shrugged. The soldier with the notebook sighted in annoyance and placed his index and middle finger on the left side of Lerner's neck.

"He's still alive." The soldier hung a red cart around Lerner's wrist. "Barely, get him the fuck inside!"

"Yes sire!" The two soldiers run him across the field the helicopter had landed, along some barracks, along the headquarter and run him into a large white tent with a red cross painted on the front sides.

It was crowdie inside, full of nurses, doctors, wounded man. It was clear no-one expected such a turnout. Quickly the two soldiers walked throw the storm of people and got him to a free bed.

"This guy has code red! Get him a doctor right here!" The soldier yelled and looked stressed into the big mass of people. "Code red! Code red! Get a fucking doctor!" The other soldier run away and quickly came back with a sweating doctor, whipping away the blood off his cheek with his white coat.

"He's been shot to shred, Doc." The soldier yelled. " It's a fucking bloody mess, here look at him Doc."

The doctor pushed the soldier away and took his flashlight. He took a look at Lerner's face and shone in his eye's. "He's a slipper. Get a nurse, get some apparatus and get me blood!" He gave the two soldiers a angry look when they didn't react. "Well, hurry for Christ sake!"

While the two man run the doctor cut off the last pieces of his paints and cut open his sleeves and shirt. Lerner didn't react on any of the touched and stared up at the fabric of the white tent.

'Where am I?' Very far away he could hear sounds of people, some where in a great deal of pain. 'It's a good thing I'm here. There is no pain here. But it's very dark here.' He frowned but couldn't get back his vision. 'Where is here?'

The soldiers succeeded and came back with a nurse and the needed equipment.

"Good, there is nothing more, you two can do." The doctor said. "Leave." He pulled the curtains shut and didn't lose a second. He made a new tourniquets, tighter and cut the old one loose. The nurse cleaned the wounds on his thighs, arms and chest, while the doctor sterilised his tools.

Lerner felt people being very near him, the darkness was gone, but he still couldn't see faces. Only some vague silhouettes with some muffled voices on the background. He heard a kind voice talk to him but couldn't hear any of the words. He knew they where American, but it sounded to far away.

From out of now were a new sting hurt his arm, he felt it the pain was tense but steady. He tried to get his head up and succeeded. Someone hold his arm and someone else was cutting in it.

'Fuck!' His eyes grew wide from horror. 'There cutting my arms off!' He screamed and told them to stop, but only low noises came out of his mouth. Two hands pushed him back into the soft fabric of the bed. The two hands remained on his chest and forehead and he couldn't get up. He couldn't hit, he couldn't shout in distress.

He had to feel the knife cut in his numb flesh he could feel himself bleed but didn't feel the stinging pain. Sweat started to run over his paled cheeks and he watched every movement of the hand with the knife. His vision was still blurry but he couldn't rip his eyes off the hands covert with his blood.

"It's alright…" A sweet voice told him. Shocked he looked up. 'How could this be alright?! Some madman was chopping my arm off!'

"… Almost over… almost out." The voice came from a nurse who was leaning over him, keeping his body still. "First one is out… just four more to go…"

The nurse looked up to the doctor that let the first bullet fall in a iron cup. "His vitals are stable."

"Good." The doctor replied. "With a bit luck where done in a quarter with this guy. I hope, there are at least twenty other man that need help." The man in the white coat hurried back to work. The tools he had to use where old and shitty, the pressure was killing and there was not enough time for all the wounded man. The man sighted and whipped off the pouring blood after pulling another bullet out. Quickly he pushed a compress on it, someone else could stitch it back up later. First things first. Get every piece of metal out.

Bullets in arms where the easies to remove, except if they hit bone. What was luckily in this case not the issue. Legs where harder. Bullets get deeper in and it's a bitch to get them out.

"I need another nurse here!" The Doc screamed when his patient started to moan and squirm. A soldier walked in, face in shock and a bit shivery. The Doc frowned. "Can you hold this guy down?" The soldier nodded slowly and grabbed the patient knee and placed a hand on his stomach.

It was torture to feel knifes cut you further open and feeling tools wiggle there way in. Lerner couldn't do a thing about it. One quick moment he was sure the gooks got him. Kicking, didn't help someone hold his knee, hitting was no us he couldn't use his arms, one hurt and the other didn't seem to be attached to his body. He knew he was crying, nobody could hear it. Hot tears burned in his half closed eyes. When the knife cut deeper in his thigh he squeezed his eyes shot and felt the tears run down his face.

He mumbled some Vietnamese pleads. He knew the language a bit, basically picked it up when he travelled throw the country. Some villager were so kind to help him, but that was long ago. Long before he got his army jacket, his M-14 rifle, his boots, his tag. Long before he lost his identity and turned into one of so many. A soldier.

He felt another sting in his arm, fluid got pressed under his skin and his mind went messy again. Allison, a girl that sat next to him in class laughed at him, his mom made him fresh backed cookies at ten o'clock. She wore sunglasses, his sis stared at him and didn't speak. His grandma smacked him for accidentally stepping on the tale of her beloved cat. His dad punched him in the face and told him never to cry as a sissy again. Many more would follow. First time being drunk with friends, Tom started to dance on the table. Tom laughed, Tom told him to be pals forever.

Lerner let out a deep breath and let his body ease. The drugs took hold of him and there was no more strength left to fight. His eye's closed and the rosary slip throw his fingers and landed on the dirty bloody floor.

**That was chapter two. I hope you don't think it's to bloody and angsty, because this is just the start. This ain't going to be a nice sweet story about a hero, this will be about soldiers slowly losing it because the things they see, do and have to face. It's going to be cruel and defiantly M-rated. Think you can dig it?**

**Reviewers will get rewarded.**

**X Nuky**


	3. Keep up soldier

**IncFinger, thank you so much for reviewing!**

**Chapter 3) Keep up soldier. **

A few days later he woke up. Snapped back into reality. His upper body jumped up and shocked he looked around, his heart pounding in his chest. He lay in a hospital bed and had absolutely no clue how he got there. It smelled badly, the curtains around his bed showed him shadows of other soldiers. Some walked cripple, some needed a shoulder to lean on.

Lerner let out a deep relieved breath and smiled a bit embarrassed. He thought he was long dead since the moments parts of his past flashed by. He'd given up too, thought it was alright. Enough's enough, but surprisingly here he lay eyes open, breathing in one piece.

That reminded him, he looked down at his hands, made a fist and watched as his fingers unclenched. A trail of caked blood take him to his upper arm. Tightly bandaged.

It hurt when he stroke the sore spot. When he tensed his bicep it felt like the bullet was still in. Quickly he eased his arm and pushed of the blankets till his shins. His chest was also tied with bandages, at some parts bloody stains blazed throw.

A bit disgusted he looked further down to his thighs. There was no bandages, it's been stitched in a rush, needles not serialised for full. The skin around the tied holes itches, it was red and raw. It doesn't feel good to see your own body like that. Lerner lays back and stared up the ceiling. It's windily outside, the thick fabric of the tent tug on the iron bars there tied to.

All at sudden the curtains pulled apart. Lerner peaked up and sees King stand in the middle of the human mess.

"You're not dead yet?" The dark man asked mocking.

"Still alive if you may call it that." Lerner says and stares at the mark in the middle of Kings shaved head. "Whatsup with you?"

"Lucky, bullet just rammed skin on his way. Some angel is watching over me, kid." King said. "God must like me, if I stood a inch more left I'd be in a bag."

Lerner quirked his lip. "Same here, I thought I would die man. For sure, I was walking to the end of the tunnel man."

King nodded and sat on the edge of his bed. "We where the lucky ones Lerner. You have no idea what slaughter it was, fucking massacre, one bloody mess."

Lerner swallowed his throat was dry. "How many died?"

King shrugged. "Too much. In three day's I saw seven choppers land. Only filled with body bags. Fucking massacre, fucking gooks. No rank got spared, even the best man died. Thirty five wounded in here and twenty seven dead."

Lerner closed his eyes a moment. Was he worthy enough to be saved? Wasn't he the one that given up so easily. He'd longed for death and almost embraced it back in the rain and mud. Why did he got rescued. He was just a nineteen year old California boy with no rich family, no high school diploma and with no goals to fight for. He came to war to flee home, set his mind straight. And look where that brought him.

"And ya aint ganna believe this, 'lias is dead." King whispered.

His eyes shot open, he jerked up and watched his friend in horror. 'Please tell me this is one very sick joke!' Devastated he tried to come up with some words. He gulped. "You're sure it's him?" He finally said.

King nodded. "Even Bunny says it's true, whole basis is talk'n 'bout it. He'd made a grand finale, shot in his chest more than once, a hug group of gooks chasing him. He run between fire, explosions. Died in a way most man would be crawling. But 'lias didn't he fought until he felt it was over."

He still couldn't believe it. Elias had been the kind of man that lived throw anything, with his free spirit and sense of brotherhood. He'd never looked down on the man under him. He took care of the rookies. Elias save him the first night they'd been under attack, took him under his wings and introduced him to his side of the platoon. He'd told him how to smoke grass, how to reload his M-14 without dropping the thing twice. Also laughed at him the first time he pissed upon the wind and had to wash his paints down the river. At the time he'd throw daggers at Elias for walking down with him and standing above him while he kneeled down in the watery sand, naked and angry. Later he understood, Elias hadn't followed him to laugh at him ( well, that too.) But to watch his back while he wrenched his soaked paints.

The flashback made a watery smile on his face. Elias had been the strong shoulder he needed in the first few weeks in camp. First weeks, so long ago… That was just practise and digging holes. At night you got high, smoked some more and woke up sober next morning sleeping in the sweaty bunker that never stopped smelling to weed and cheap liquor.

"Can't believe it either, hey Lerner." King asked.

"No, I mean… Fuck, Elias is like a jungle cat with nine lives, he'd been so long in 'Nam. He's like the fucking Godfather of this jungle."

King chuckled because of his strange comparison. "That's some good way of put'n 'im. Man was a hero, high as hell, but damn what a fighter."

'And one of the best sergeants ever.' Lerner blinked, it felt like a kick in the chest. 'Elias died, what the fuck. What's gonna happen to our platoon?' He didn't like the fact sergeant Barnes was now head of action. Elias could be hard as a rock, but Barnes, he was just cruel. That man loved the smell of dead enemies. He'd kill a whole villages just to be sure there where no weapons they might cover for the NVA.

"I'll leave you by yourself, Lerner." King said. "Rest, heal, look a nurse nicely in the eyes and tell 'm you miss you're sweet missy at home. Some screwing around does a man good, if ya know what I mean." His friend grinned.

Lerner nodded but didn't look up.

King noticed the grief on the face of his friend. "Don't let it get ya boy, we all die one day." King made a waving gesture and closed the curtains.

Lerner didn't know what to feel. One of the best man is his platoon had died, twenty six others did too. It hurt, who knows how many of his friends where dead, died in that soaked field. They did and he was about to, back there. And he wanted it but got the chance, the escape. A opportunity, to linger for the edge of death.

He noticed his rosary laying on the ground. He scooped over and took the silver cross of the dirt ground. He watched it and let the breads slip throw his fingers. He'd witnessed his own rebirth. A part of him had died, part of his innocent has passed away. No longer was he a young naïve nineteen year old boy. Good man had died in his place. He could have been the one on the trolley, but someone had made him skip his last breath for a day.

'I have to fight, I own that to the soldiers that died in my place.' Lerner thought and turn his hand into a fist, squeezing the silver into his skin. 'I have to win for glory, for good man, for my country and for myself.'

**This is kinda the last chapter before we go into action. After this or brave Lerner gets dropped in the Greenfield again. In 'Nam, so better save him some grace.**

**X Nuky**


	4. Dreams and nightmares

**This chapter is another glimpse of the hell they went through. Not just the jungle, not just there enemies but also themselves. That's what I wanted to do with this story, how they survived themselves, the monster that's in all of us somewhere deep down. **

**Chapter 4)**** Dreams and nightmares **

That night he dreamed of Elias. It was his second week and they where patrolling. The wells they passed had been poisoned. They had to watch two pupils curling on the ground, squirm in pain and there hands clutched around there stomach. 'Dying from the inside.' Tex told without feeling much compassion for the two boys crying in agony. Back then Tex was a real bastard, till he'd helped to murder a small villages. Somehow that changes him, strange what situations can changes a man.

But back then Tex was a ass. Elias and he stood close to each other, whispering. Elias looked at the crying boys crawling on the ground and nodded slowly. The platoon moved on, Tex stayed behind and would catch up at the graveyard. An old Buddhist place full of large statues of the great God himself and a mile filled with graves. It was the only place out of the open and a bit secure to set camp.

The hadn't even walked a half mile when they heard two gunshots, quickly after each other. The group turned around facing the jungle they just conquered. Elias didn't speak and didn't look back. Later, after he got really high he'd tell them a story about a old dog that chewed his own paw off, from pain. He'd tell them he had to put that old dog of him out of his misery and crushed his skull with the shovel of his dad.

That was Elias, full of metaphors and tales to make life sounds better and murder be almost something like something good. Almost.

He'd dreamed from the long walk from well to well, al poisoned. It had been hot that day. Half of the platoon had been walking bare chest, sweat drips running down there backs. He had to walk a time up front, leading a way throw bamboo, plants and lianas. He'd felt light-headed at ones, stepped a few more time forward and fell forward with his face in the mud. The heat had got him and he was surly he would pass out again if he had to walk one more step. Elias had pulled him out of the mud and didn't say a word. He took off his helmet and bag pack. Under protested he dealt out all his belongings to the other man.

'And what are you going to carry?' Junior asked angry because of the extra ponds that he had to carry along.

'I got a soldier to drag along and you can help.' Elias said giving Junior his cocky confident half grin. The angry man cursed and helped him back on his feet. Shoulder to shoulder they made it down a small river. Elias dragged him throw the river-beds into the water. At knee-high he let him drop on his knees and pushed his head underwater. The blurring heat was gone and he was fully awake, screaming shit. He'd started drinking, making a fool out of himself after chocking and coughing half of the water out. He didn't care of the laughter and let his whole body sink in the shallow water. It felt relieving, he took a bite. The water tasted a bit sweet and bitter. It smelled to dead plants but it wasn't going to harm them.

They made it to the graveyard that day, Tex made it in the evening. Lerner would never forget how that smelly water tasted like and how it felt. He would never forget Elias who pulled him back up his feet's after being smashed into the mud.

When he woke up he craved for a joint. Or any kind of smoke. The morphine wore off and the pain started to spread throw his body. It started at his thighs and slowly sneak to his chest and arms.

He called for a nurse, he gave her sweet look and he was so kind to give him some extra morphine. She also tended the swollen wounds and cleaned his face. It felt a bit better, after so long you almost forget what it was to be clean. Layers of dirt and mud covered much of his body and clothes. Before he got send back he wanted a bath, or at leased a shower.

King visited him and along came Big Harold who got beaten down by a booby-trap. Both man where fine, doing alright. They didn't say much but there eyes said enough. None of the two wanted to get back there. Death was coming and who wanted to face that again?

'I do.' Lerner thought bravely. 'I want to look it in the face and spit on it.' He had a mission, not trying to survive but fight. Fight, win and get back in one piece. That's how he was going to work. That was his mission and screw every gook who tried to stop him.

But it took him a week to heal properly. The wounds on his thighs would leave a nasty scar, the one on his upper arm was alright, just a bit stiff. And his chest felt great, the bullets never got that far in him, his clothing protected him good.

Nine days after his rebirth he walked out of the tent, still filled with badly wounded soldiers a number that just wouldn't get less. Everyday there came in another chopper. Every day was a new hell. But he walked out, into the hot sun that was on her height. He blinked and narrowed his eyes. He said a quick goodbye to Big Harold and King.

"See you later." He said faking a smile. He knew there wouldn't be a next time. This was final. None of them said that out load, it made it a bit more bearable. Act light when you say goodbye, because none of the man you will see ever again. Every goodbye meant farewell. How much was the chance to see each other alive again? Many would die or send away to another platoon. And back home, you didn't want to see you're war friend back home. You couldn't believe it now because home was so far. But being back home, meant another war. War within and with your family, your formal friend that would never get you, because they don't know the you that's created, moulded in a place of doom.

But there was no way Lerner would know that all now. Home, that was still a safe house to think of in bad times. Home, was a place kindness and love waited.

Quickly Lerner forced that thoughts away. Two hundred fifty-five day's until home came into the picture. That lay a world away.

He walked into a barrack and got send to a gruffly looking sergeant.

The man looked up from his paperwork. "First and last name."

"Gator, Lerner, sire." Lerner answered immediately. The sergeant muttered something and walked away. A few minutes later he came back with Lerner's bag.

"This will be all your belongings." He pushed the bag in Lerner's arms. He bit his lip, his arm still felt stiff. "The next chopper will leave in a half hour, it'll get you to Soui Cut. There you will regroup with a new platoon. Don't miss your next flight, kid!" The sergeant ordered.

He pushed his bag pack on his shoulders "Yes sire." Before he knew it he was back outside, face all sweaty again, back hurting because of the junk he carried around and longing for a cigarette.

Luckily a group of soldiers where also waiting for his chopper and he got passed a cigarette and a light. He sat down on a barrel and sheltered into the shadows. He inhaled and, hell did he miss to smoke. There weren't much luxuries in the camps or basis. So smoking and cheap liquor where the only two things to ease your mind. Many smoked or drank, only a few percent could coop without it.

"Do any of ya have a clue where they'll send us this time?" A tall soldier asked with a southern accent.

"Soui Cut, I've heard." Another soldier said, sitting next to Lerner on the barrel.

"Yeah 'know that but where is it?" The tall soldier asked again.

The other soldier shrugged. "Who gives a shit." He blew out some smoke. "It's fucked everywhere in 'Nam, better not think of the next hell."

Lerner had to agree, smoked his cigarette and waited until the chopper came.

When the machine landed a few soldiers jumped out, grabbed the wounded and coached them to move quick into the belly of the beast. Lerner packed his stuff, let his rosary slip in his front pocket and jumped into the chopper. About twenty man where with him in the chopper. He didn't know any of them and didn't feel the urge to great them. He didn't feel much for talking, for all he knew these guys would be dead in a day.

In the air some of them started talking. There where many rumours about the Gooks, about certain platoons, about attacks. There where many questions none of them could answer.

Lerner kept quit and just watched the bush beneath him. He saw some small houses almost invisible between the trees. A few kids dared to run outside, pointing at the chopper and waving. Quickly the kids got pulled back inside by frightened mothers. And who could blame them, sometimes they where nice, but mostly not.

When they finally reached the camp the soldier became quite. The sun was slowly sinking into the red mountains. It started to get a bit chilly, the wind that normally was warm and soft on your skin started to get cold and warning.

There wasn't much to call a 'camp' it where a few barracks shelter in deep wholes made almost invisible with leaves and bushes.

'Well so much for a warm welcome.' Lerner thought dry as he watched his new sergeant bark the man out of the chopper. He jumped out and waited until he could pick his bag. A few man pushed him aside and walked up to the barracks. Lerner gave them a annoyed look but let it go. There was a war going on, they had to fight the enemy, not themselves.

Quite he picked up his humble pare of belongings, pulled them up his back and followed the man into the small wooden houses.

There where about thirty man gathered in the main barrack, but surprisingly it remained pretty quite. After a few minutes the 'new' sergeant came in from the front door. To Lerner's dislike he saw Stg Barnes walk throw the line of man. 'Great' He thought. 'Now I have to take orders from a madman, again.' He would never forget the moment Stg Barnes shot that furious woman in cold blood, just in a blink of a eye.

The sergeant started to speak about the last changes, about some strategies. But instead of getting straight to the core he wondered off. There was something going on, Lerner knew. Barnes wasn't the type of man that wouldn't tell them what they where up to.

Instead they just got some plain information and got split up into three small platoons. What there next mission would be, none of them had any idea. When on of the man was brave enough to asked Barnes snapped and told them they would get further instructions in the morning.

So they got set back into the night, without time left to find shelter against the mosquitoes or the cold. Many of the man complained and walked off to the trees to smoke some dope or get drunk. Lerner didn't he wasn't stupid. He had no clue what he was up against so the last thing he would do was get so fucked he couldn't even walk straight. He wanted to keep his body and mind clear, for now.

He walked away from the angry man that would get drunk soon and walked into the field where many others started to make a place for the night. He searched for a empty, rockless spot when suddenly he saw Rhah stand in the middle of two tents.

He run up to his buddy from the Heads, the man with the husky howl and the tattooed knuckles who hold a strong stick.

Rhah didn't seem to pleased and stood there with a deep frown. When he noticed Lerner he blinked. "Look who came from the dead."

"Look who's talking, you look like you've seen a ghost man." He remarked.

"If you only knew Lerner…" Rhah shook his head. "Life is being shit here, life screws us all. The war is coming and none f those dickshits are telling us a damn thing."

Lerner frowned, so he had been right. "I heard Elias passed away."

Something changes in Rhah's face, something darkened. "Not just died, if you believe some of them, he's been murdered. If you ask Chris he'll swear he saw Barnes come back with remorse on his face after he shoot Elias."

Shocked Lerner mumbled: "Barnes killed Elias?"

"I aint saying anything, man, just know and remember that. But I'm not saying Chris has not made a point. Chris might be thinking Barnes shot Elias ones of twice, before he got killed by the dinks."

Lerner's mouth would have dropped if there weren't so many flies around. "The son of a bitch!"

"Just hold your jaws together, kid." Rhah warned. "This place is to dangerous right now to get strange idea's 'bout some people, some people very high in rank, if you know what I mean. Some can send your ass right into the jungle and you'll never see sweet home again." Rhah was dead serious.

Lerner swallowed dryly, he got a bad feeling about it all. Elias was dead, there was something going on in the camp and now his friend told him his old sergeant had shot his formal mentor. "This can't be happening right?"

Rhar shrugged. "You didn't get it from me. Keep your head down, take orders and try not to do anything stupid. 'Cause I can tell ya, soon there will be a countdown." After that Rhah disappeared between the tents and left Lerner wondering.

**So the system starts to crack. **

**Please be so kind to give me your opinion, I really need that. **

**X Nuky**


	5. Both walking the same path

**I hate the fact there aren't a lot of people that read PLATOON-fic. Honestly I don't understand why hasn't made a fandom out of this movie. But let's continue. **

**Chapter 5)Both walking the same path**

Lerner woke up the next day with a incredible pain in his back and his face was all swollen up by mosquito bites. Someone shook him and mocked him when he yawned and rubbed his sore back.

He did not react and crawled up from under his moisty sleeping bag. When h rolled up the blanket he found the rock that pained him whole night.

'Stupid rock!' He thought angrily, he grabbed it and throw it into the bushes.

The sun barely was up and the whole group of soldiers where packing again. The ten man, his new platoon for the moment, where just finishing there morning routine. None of them said much and Lerner did not bother to make a difference.

'Soon half of them will be gone, wounded or send to other placed. Or just dead.' He thought and tied his sleeping bag with the leather straps of his backpack.

A large, tinned man with tick dark hair and piercing eyes walked up to them. With large steps he came across Lerner, he walked confident and fearless. As in 'been there done that,' kind of way.

The man stopped. "I'm Lorenzo Carcanera, but you just call me Sergeant Enzo. You will do what I see and you better do it right. I came to far to let a Gringo screw everything up." The Mexican said with a husky accent. His voice was raw, well trained and lived throw. "We have to get over that hill today." He made a quick gesture to the high steep mountain behind him. "If one of you dickshits think you can fuck around during my shift you got yourself very wrong. It's dangerous going up there, not only gooks, but it's steep and hard to climb, not to mention snakes. So watch where you park your ass."

His dark eyes looked up at his fresh meat for the first time and Lerner wasn't quick enough to look away.

He took a few steps back ."What's your name niño?"

"Gator Lerner, sir." He ticked his temple with his middle and index finger.

His new sergeant nodded with approving. "Good, Lerner will take the lead." And he handed him a sharp cutting knife.

'Ass.' Lerner thought when he took the knife and watched as the Mexican gave him a bright smile, showing a golden tooth.

It is thought to walk in the bush of 'Nam, it is even harder with all your belonging on your back. Crossing a mountain is hell, being the poor guy that has to walk in the front is pure torture. Because of the heat, the pressuring air around you, the rushing fear of knowing the fact you where on enemy ground. And in your way you have to cut all the green down that seems a home for over a hundred insect families.

That was what Lerner was going throw for the next couple of hours. Sweating and cutting a way throw bushes, going up a steep and slippery path, made by animals. The fear of getting shot down again when you didn't even knew where the shooter was kept him on his toes. He was not only first man, but also first target.

His eyes scanned the trees constantly and the skin of his back was crawling. He could hear the mans behind him mumble, hum like bees. It annoyed him. 'Idiot's, talking about nothing while there is a war going on…' Didn't they get it? There was a _war _going on, who wanted there last words to be: "So I betted on the wrong horse." Or something like that.

'They defiantly would.' A discussion when on and on a few feet below him. The subject had turned into woman and a couple of names where tossed in.

A couple of time he wanted to yell at them for being so gad damn stupid, but he didn't feel much for speaking. The words kept hanging in his throat, while he mind started to rush throw the thought that lingered in his dreams, in his nightmares.

The kept walking on until Sergeant Enzo told them to stop. Sometimes he felt more then just a part of the machine, sometimes he was just a machine. You walk when they tell you, you shoot when they tell you, you even shit whenever they said you can go.

There weren't much breaks that day, there was a hurry to get to the other side of the mountain. None of them asked, you just didn't asked. Some guessed and discussed quietly.

When Enzo said they would make camp all of the man collapsed on the floor, pushing aside there back packs and tried to get back there feeling in there legs.

When the sun went down, there stood a small camp for the night, with a small fire and man gambling with the last bit of money they had.

Lerner kept aside of the discussions going around, he wished for a joint, needed the feeling of safety, or at least the feeling of numbness. But there weren't any drugs around, or alcohol. In the field you were not aloud to take anything that set your mind off things.

So there he sat, keeping silent. Knowing there was something wrong and it came closer and closer.

He still felt messed up, not like the lack of drugs, it was more within. In his head. In his mind. He tried to shove it away and concentred on the cane while he force the white beans with tomato sauce in.

Enzo had given him the last shift so he wanted to get some sleep. He was dead tired, his right arm hurt from cutting throw the jungle and he felt sticky from his own sweat, mixed with dirt.

'Damn, I need a joint, that at leased keeps me sane.' He scratched some dirt off his cheeks. He opened his water bottle and took a big swig. Then he took a hand full to clean his face and neck. The liquid felt so cool on his temples and it eased him a bit.

He buried his body deep down the blankets. 'Let's call it a night then.' No insect, nor rock would bother him to night.

Somebody woke him up quite cheery.

"Wake up sailorboy!" Somebody said, just above his ear and the person gave him another tug.

'What the-?' Lerner stretched and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Still a bit sleepy he peeked up from under the fabric.

He looked right in the face of the rockie who sat by his side during the mud and blood flow.

"Nice to see you still around." The young boy said.

Surprised Lerner came out his sleeping back and looked around. Another platoon had joined them. About thirty man where now in there camp.

"How… w-what?... Who are you?" Lerner stumbled out.

"Mosh, Mosh Todds." The boy said in a bit singsong kind of voice. He studied Lerner while he stood up and watched as he started to pack his stuff. The boy seemed still a bit childlike, not old nor mature enough to be around here.

"Your Lerner, right?" Mosh asked after a few moments of silence.

Lerner just nodded and pushed his sleeping back between the rest of his humble belongings.

"Not much of a talker, I see." The boy said a bit offended and scampered off.

Lerner looked up and stopped. 'That kid saved me.' He turned half the way. "I still own you a thanks, Mosh."

The boy stopped walking and turned his head. Bluish eyes started to smile, it seemed the only visible expression on the dirty covered face of the boy.

Lerner picked up his bag and walked with Mosh to the platoon that started to become a big mechanism. It was going to be a long hot walk again.

**It's a very short chapter. Next one will be a big blow. War is coming. But you'll read the warnings. **

**Review because without I stop posting. **

**Nuky**


	6. White Rabbit

**This is one of those rush-chapters. Written in a soggy halfday-halfnight state of mind. And I'm darn proud of it. I wrote this the night I got home from England, about ninety days ago. This might be the most realistic and biggest piece of chaos I wrote down. **

**I put in a few warnings, some things may be very graphic. I wanted to write so realistic as I could make it. This is a story about war and that's where this chapter is about. About the way a human turns into an animal, kill or be killed. Even or cute little Lerner turns out less innocent. **

**Chapter 6) White ****Rabbit**

The sun was down a long time ago before the platoon walked into a basis, called RedFort in Soui Cut. Lerner tired, sticky and sore till bone stumbled to a small fire, with a few soldiers around it. Four of them where playing poker, another sat down quite and eating some stuff out of a cane.

Lerner sat down next to that guy, he felt horrible and didn't want to be bothered much. His just healed wounds on his thighs where burning. He hadn't eat much that day, in the morning he felt to sick to eat, in the afternoon there was no time.

'I wish I knew what is going on here.' Lerner thought miserable.

It took the beans some time to cook, some steam came out of the hole he pierced in with a cut knife he borrowed from the silent man next to him. He watched as the flames grew around the dry wood and listened to the curses and laughter of the man playing poker, gambling away there last few pennies.

"Mind if I join you sailor?" A familiar voice asked when he was about to eat. He nodded to Mosh, who looked exhausted, a thorn bush must have cut him in the face a few time, red lines of blood crossed his face several times. When he sat down he moaned and took off his helmed.

There where also a few scratches on his skull, Lerner noticed.

Mosh saw his look and whipped over his head, leaving a red line of blood on his sleeve. "Fell down a few times, I'm not use to climb anything, defiantly not with something the weight of my own body on my back."

Lerner gave him a little smile, he'd remembered his first horrible fall down, dragging a few more soldiers along. How he had been screamed at while he was in a great deal of pain.

"I'm hungry." Mosh stated and his bright blue eyes lingered for his cane. "But I've already ate all my stuff."

Lerner swallowed the beans that tasted to nothing and handed it to Mosh. "Here this stuff tasted like crap anyway."

The boy smiled, hungrily and started to eat in a rapid speed. "How long… 've you been 'ere?" He asked between a few bites.

" 'Bout hundred something, something I guess." He answered a bit amused by the quick way the boy eat his food.

Mosh looked up from his food. "You dunno for sure?" He shrugged. "That ain't smart."

"I stopped counting, it doesn't matter much does it?" Lerner said. He'd stopped counting since he woke up in the hospitable bed. Because nobody seemed to know how long he'd been there for sure. And what did it matter? If he would die, he would die. If someone or something thought he had a good reason to get home in one piece he would get home. Somehow.

"It does, it's 'bout getting home." The boy replied. "I wanna get home."

Lerner had to grin. "Don't we all?"

"Some more then another, I just don't belong here." Mosh said a bit sad.

"Who does?" Lerner replied clear-headed.

Mosh made a motion with his head to a couple of man reloading there rifle. "They do, they don't care but I do. I'm going home, very soon."

Lerner looked at the boy, slightly mocking. "How can you be so sure, you're here for like, a month?"

He shrugged. "Elias told me, he would get me home."

Lerner froze for a moment, a few old memories flashed back. Elias laughing down in the hutch with there friends, dancing, smoking dope throw pipes, making stupid jokes no-one could remember the day after. Talking about there last sweet-sweet time with some woman. Showing off, getting high from the bowls of grass. That way they kept sane, it kept them in some kind of balance, so there mental state was still able to fight, but see the difference between fighting and murderer innocent victims. Quickly he pushed the thoughts away.

"Didn't you hear? Elias is dead."

Mosh looked up to him and gave him a half, cocky, smile. "No way man. Elias is alive."

He swallowed. "Mosh, 'm not kidding, I've heard it from Rhah and King, the whole platoon knows."

The grin fade. "No way, Elias is _alive_. He has to be." There was some desperation in that last word.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but he died a week or what ago." The boy seemed to winch.

"No… No, Elias talks better than a fucking priest. When he speaks, I swear even angels are listening. When he isn't all that high and looks at you, talks to you... He promised me he would survive. He told me he would take me home." Between the words of the young boy where some sobs. "He told me to believe and hold on. Fuck this, he's not dead. He can't be…"

Lerner didn't know what to answer so he kept his thought to himself and watched the fire again. The flames where dancing in a slow rhythm, curling the wood, lingering for more. It took him of guard for Mosh's next question.

"Do you know… how."

He blinked and was a bit of track for a moment. "Don't know. Don't want to think about it." He said after he saw Mosh his risen eyebrow, like he sensed he was lying to him.

Mosh opened his mouth to make a remark but got interrupted by a gigantic ball of fire coming from the other side of the basis. Everyone around them where jumped in fighting position, the only problem was, where were they up against?

"THE ARMOURY!" Someone yelled from over the field. "THE BLOWN UP THE ARMOURY!" Then there where a few shots and the voice was cut off.

Panic started to spread over RedFort, man came running out of there barracks, only half clothed holding there gun in a unsafe position. A few foot from them a RPJ-rocket when off, crossing the field and burying his heated body into the nearest wall of RedFort's radio station. Soldiers where trying to find the sores of the attack and spread across the jungle edge, pulling pins out of there grenades and throwing them in.

"THE TOOK OVER THE NORTH SIDE!" Smoke started to blow into the camp just after a loud explosion.

There where screams coming from the long row of barracks and in a blink of an eyes dozen Gooks came running upon there field. A few soldiers where to shook to even aim there gun and where slaughtered by the simple armoury of the Vietcong soldiers. It was a horrible sight to see a knife go throw the back of a human, or hearing the skull crack by a man that run, blinded by fear, right into a backside of a rifle. The smell of blood filled the air, as some bright white light that suddenly shone into the camp.

"QUICK GET INTO POSITION! AND GET DOWN! DOWN MAN!DOWN!!!"

Slowly the platoon started to get back in pieces, the surprise attack had a big impacted on the man, not just the soldiers but also the majors, lieutenant and sergeants. But they started to recover and soon orders got barked and the payback could start. 'Nam's where well trained, fast and knew there grounds. But the American's where stronger then the averages Vietnamese and there weapons where far more advanced.

"ENZO GET SOME MAN IN TE FIELDS!"

"DIEGO GET TO THE EDGES AND TRY TO SEE WHERE WERE UP AGAINST!"

"BRATLEY MAKE SURE YOU KILL THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS!"

Orders got screamed around, panic started to turn into rage. They where like trapped animals, a dangerous mixture. Lethal. Through the fog of the explosions you could see man firing there machineguns M-16, M-14, RPJ, rifles, shotguns, hand grenades, it was hard to see through the thick layer of smoke and the blinding white lights the gooks had send into the air.

Sergeant Enzo was running throw the soon to be red battlefield and tried to find some soldiers to get throw into the jungle. They needed to know how many Gooks where running around and deep in the bush it was hard to get some backup. Plus some motherfucker committed suicide right when he run into the radio station with a bomb clutched in his hands.

'MOTHERFUCKING GOOK!' Enzo jumped and duck just in time a row of bullets just passed his head and pierced throw a hip of somebody else, he could here the man behind him scream and fall down. A pity but he couldn't help. So he grabbed his M-14, and shot the murderer in front of him throw his chest. He hit a lung and shot again. 'Die fuck-face, die motherfucker!'

They guy was still struggling on the floor, his arms jolting in the air like a dying cockroach. It only heated his rage and the adrenalin rushing through his body didn't help the clear thinking. In a fight like this there wasn't much humanity left, they where animals, all of them. Killing other beasts.

Enzo kept firing and firing until there wasn't much more left then a bloody lump of something that once had looked like a human. He stopped, satisfied and whipped of the blood of his opponent with his wrist. Sudden he remembered he had to find a few man that where still alive and still capable of following orders. It was common that some man got insane in this kind of twisted gruesome way to fight for there money. Sometimes he didn't get it, he just didn't get it. _Why? Why_ in the world did he came here? _Why, why_ in the world wasn't he back with his wife and his kids? _Why, why_ did he come here to shout orders and to kill another?

Right now there wasn't much to think, this was just basic survival instincts. Even Gandi would grab a rifle if he wanted to live. It's all in the books, Darwin, struggle to survive.

But after this, who wanted to keep on living? Because some things you can't get out of your head, some faces will hunt you forever, in your sleep, in your dreams. Until the day you die.

After he found some capable man he run into the forest and screamed as the run throw the trees, there only safety and cover.

They didn't know that there where over five thousand gooks surrounding there camp. They surely knew there went on something with the Vietcong, but never something big like this. Not this well trained, not something this tactic. It was_ revenge_ would the survivors hear, long, long after. The few who lived through the catastrophic massager.

In the middle of it stood Lerner, wide eyes, mouth open to scream. He knew how to shoot, he knew how to aim and to kill. But failed to get his gun up. He stood on the edge of the camp watching the middle circle of the fight. He knew there could be gooks coming from behind him, he knew he had to do something. But his legs felt numb and his eyes could only fix on the flashing of the guns.

'Is this why I survived? To see _this_? To watch it over and over again?' His hands where turned into fist, his nails duck deep into his skin. His knuckles where white but he didn't see it. Didn't feel it when someone tugged on his jacket.

Until he got slammed down. 'They got me!' This was the point there was no way back and sudden he didn't feel so powerless. He started to scream like a madman and smashed right into his opponent. A high cry and a body landed between the fire and the bags.

'SHIT!' He'd beat Mosh right in the face, full force. He crawled up to him on hand and knees.

"You're alright?! You're alright?!" His voice missed a few tones and sounded so _close_ to hysterical. The boy opened one eye, the other was unable to, it started to get thick right away and it must hurt like hell. 'SHIT HOLY SHIT!' This was the first time he hit somebody so hard he passed out.

He looked around for any help, to much to ask. Everyone was trying to save his own ass, tried to follow up the given order and tried to stay alive.

He saw a gook appear through the fog, it held some kind of gun he didn't knew anything about and it was easy to see Lerner was about to get his next victim. The NVA soldier let out a loud roar and aimed. A moment time seemed to freeze, a shadow appeared next to the gook and beat it in the face with the butt of a rifle. The gun went off, but missed his target, and scratched only Lerner's shoulder.

He cried out but didn't feel much of the pain. Instead of focussing on the wound he crawled back to Mosh who started to regain consciousness. He held the boy's head up and shook him. His blue eye opened and he stared up into the dark night, just a few seconds before they met Lerner's desperate gaze.

"W-what?!" He saw the boy's lips say. His eyes turned back and he passed out again.

"GET THE HELL OUT!" Some soldier screamed, with a screeching voice, filled with fear. "I SAW THEM! THERE COMING!... TO MUCH!" The man disappeared between the trees of the thick jungle.

Lerner was on his feet in a blink of a eye and pulled Mosh over his shoulder, who surprisingly didn't weigh as much as he had suspected, but there was also a lot of adrenaline rushing through his veins. Uncontrollably he started to scream, every normal thinking person could tell that was stupid as hell. True, but there wasn't much time to think clearly, so he let the animal instinct take over. 'Survive, just survive and kill if you have to.'

He run into the jungle, blinded because of the white lights the gooks had send in air, slamming a couple of times in trees. He had his gun ready to shoot, his index finger pressing against the trigger of his M-14. Everything that moved, he would _shoot_ it. Everything that he could not identify as something of his. 'I'll kill ya, I _will _kill ya!'

He saw a few slit-eyes appear from his right, crossing through the bushes, holding a simple AK-47 rifle. It where tree maybe four man for all he could see.

Quickly he throw the boy down who made a hurtful sound when he landed against a stump. Lerner didn't hear it, or choose to ignore it. He duck down behind a well planted anthill and aimed.

One of the Vietcong warriors got hit in the kneecap and let out a loud scream and dropped his weapon to hold his stained knee, as if he thought he might heal the broke boon with his hands.

Lerner hadn't thought he would be able to hit them and started to grin, a devilish grin too close to insanity. He jumped up, in full view of the dinks. "Tell Ho Chi Minh to kiss my white trash ass!"

The soldiers of the Vietcong suddenly noticed the crazy American that had shot one of there friends. Revenges was so easy taken today. What they didn't see was the pin landing just behind Lerner's boots. Before they could aim they got blown away by a simple hand grenade.

Lerner watched the explosion rage away two bodies, watches as they fell down on the ground, lifeless and broken. He leap over the anthill and walked towards the wounded gook in dreadful pain, still clutching his knee, not interested in the rest of the world. Just in pain, pure pain, like every other human would.

His grin disappeared and he watched the man in front of him for a moment. Manny, Sal and many more of his friends had been this vulnerable. His rages and insanity washed away. He sat down facing the man in agony. He could see bone sticking out of the bloody wound.

He stared at the frozen gaze of the man when he pulled his gun against his forehead. In two brown eyes it lay, fear and redemption.

"_Kill me." _The Vietcong spook with a tremble.

And he did, he pulled the trigger. BANG and the pain was gone. He blinked, the body dropped backwards with a hole in his head. Drips of blood where over his face, on his mouth, neck and around his eyes. It was everywhere around him. In the air her breathed, the smell the _tast_…

He got sick and puked. Gagged and vomited in the grass. Blood, it made him _so_ sick. His hands trembled so much he could barely hold his gun. And they where covered with blood, blood so much of it. He started to rub over his face, scrub it off with the rough end of his sleeves.

He whipped of the spit from the corners of his mouth and slowly the shots and screams came back. He crawled back to the stump where he had left the beaten boy. He seemed aware of here he was, his eyes moved around trying to see what he was up against. There was some fear rushing through them when he saw Lerner coming up to him.

It took a moment for them both to see some reconnection in there eyes. Lerner couldn't say a thing, his thought where still with the dead knee-less body. He took the boy and lifted him over his shoulders and started to run again, away from that place away from death.

There was a battle going on that they couldn't win, maybe the war but not this battle. Lerner didn't know that at the moment, he just wanted to get away from his victim. Not that he ever could, those pair of brown eyes would follow him for the rest of his life. He wanted to run deep into the jungle and disappear, or get killed. He forgot Mosh that nudged from side to side with every step. He was sure he would keep running until he dropped dead.

But all the sudden the ground beneath him disappeared and he was sure hell was getting him. He slide through a narrow tunnel and ended in a dark hole. His eyes grew huge and he felt around for a flashlight, but Mosh stopped him. In the dim light that shown into the tunnel he saw Mosh place his index finger on his mouth.

He kept silent and listened. Footsteps run above him, shot got fired and he could smell smoke.

Meanwhile Mosh had crawled up and pulled on Lerner's jacket, urging him till the most far-away corner.

The boy pressed himself against the muddy wall and sat quite listening and watching the end of the tunnel. Lerner's strength started to wore off now he sat still. He was panting, his breathing ragging through his dry throat. And he started to feel his shoulder, there was something wrong with it.

He tried to explain that to Mosh, but couldn't find the words, or _any_ words. He panted and tried to point out that he was hurt.

Mosh understood, thank God. He felt him get his jacket off, a big piece of his shoulder was raw and bleeding but that was mostly because of the distance he had walked with Mosh on his shoulder, then he didn't remember he was hit.

The bullet hadn't gone that deep, only tear some flesh, thanks to distance between him and the shooter.

"I can see it, hold still!" Mosh whispered and placed his hand right under the wound. Lerner let out a cry and squeezed his eyes shut by the stings running around the gash. "Hold it in, Lerner, hold it in!"

That was easily said, he almost bit his lip off when Mosh's fingers jerked into the wound and pulled out the piece of iron without any painkiller, drug or whatsoever. Only some plain water that was lukewarm.

But it tasted wonderful when he got the bottle against his lips. He drank greedily and grunted when he didn't got more.

Mosh started to tore a piece off his shirt, cleaned it a bit with water and bandaged it around his shoulder. Lerner watched and sometimes tensed and didn't speak.

There was a sound of upcoming boots and something yelled in Vietnamese. Frightened Mosh looked to the edge of the tunnel, shadows run by. He snatched Lerner's gun out of his hands and aimed at the edge.

That's how they sat for more then a hour, hearing the rapid breathing of the other and the battle going on outside. Lerner wanted to get up and fight but couldn't find any energy left.

And Mosh, he couldn't blame the kid. Because he was still a _kid_, a rockie pushed into a battlefield be on his powers. A few times they where sure someone would fall down too and a few times Mosh nearly pulled the trigger. Lerner was only trying to keep his eyes open, blinking and watching the shadows linger over the edge of there safe place. Somehow he had to think about the song, '_White Rabbit.'_ It made him smile, seeing the irony of it all. How he'd loved to dance on that music, stoned or drunk, sometimes both.

'_And if you go chasing rabbits,_

_And you know you're going to fall,_

_Tell 'em a hookah smoking caterpillar,_

_Has given you the call,_

_Recall Alice,_

_When she was just small.'_

How'd he'd been dancing, smoking and laughing remembering a girl called Alice calling his one small. How'd been cheering and see the sun come up that time.

Somehow that white rabbit made a smile appear on his face just about the moment he started to fall and how he would dream about a girl with a broken knee and dark brown eyes without a shade of forgives.

**What happens inside a persons mind has always fascinates me. And this is why I write this fiction. How much can you keep your sanity while your in hell. When you see your friends die and end lives yourself. **

**I told you before it's not going to be pretty. And it won't, this might be the darkest and (well I won't say depression) Angstis (that's not a real word) story I wrote. **

**Still I want to write it, because it interest me and somehow a few other people, because your reading it right now.**

**I earned a review and I **_**need **_**it. Because this is really a thing that shocked me to be written by **_**me**_

**X Nuky **


	7. Eyes of a stranger

**Chapter 7) ****Eyes of a stranger**

.-.-.

He couldn't believe he woke up, not sure where he was. He focused. It was dark around him, but there was just enough light to show him where he was, through the gap of the tunnel shone early sunlight. The morning dew dripped from the grass that had found a way in.

Lerner blinked surprised. 'Who.' Was all he could think. 'Who…'

He was the first one that woke up, next to him sat Mosh, half bended forward. He was still holding Lerner's gun, fingers clutched around it, as it was his lifeline. There where dark bruises around his eye and in the dim light he somehow looked like a panda bear. A shaved and terrified panda. His helmet had was a bit turned and had sunk over a small bit of his face, _boldly going nowhere,_ was written on the back. If he wasn't in that much pain and fear he would have laughed. Irony was a bitch.

He listened to the slow peaceful breathing of his ally. It was the only sound he could pick up, other then his own.

'But is that a good thing, or a bad thing?' He wondered.

Using the muddy wall behind him he stood up, it was harder then he had expected it to be. His legs where stiff and sore and he felt beaten, broken.

Pushing himself from wall to wall he tried not to us his aching shoulder. Maybe he could us it in a few day's, he hoped, but not now.

There was some movement behind him. "What are you doing?" Mosh said with a raucous throat.

"Checking outside." He answered without looking back at the panda bear.

"You're sure that's a good idea?" Mosh said doubtful.

"No, but we can't stay here the rest of your lives and I don't know how long those walls will hold after the rain… and the fight." Rethinking last night Lerner swallowed. 'Who knows what will be out there.' "Give me the gun."

Mosh crawled up clumsy and handed him his M-14. "Be careful." He murmured.

"I will." 'Like your in the stated to fight, a gook will laugh and shoot before I even can point my gun.' Unease he looked up to the gap. There could be a ANV soldier, or a dozen. Up in the field he was a easy catch the moment he stuck his head throw the hole.

Still, down here they where sitting ducks.

He bit his lip and squeezed the gun thigh. 'Better get this over with.' And he started climbing up, pushing the barrel of the gun in the mud for balance. And he used his knees to prevent him from sliding back.

He succeeded to get to the top. First he stuck the barrel out and waited.

Nothing happened, no sounds of running soldiers, no Vietnamese war yells not even a cough.

Somehow that made the little hairs in his neck stand up. 'The sound of nothing, means death. _Many _deaths.'

Holding his breath and preparing for the worse he cocked his head over the edge.

Misery, the first word that got in him. It was misery. No bird dared to sing on this soundless day. Death was in the air and it didn't take long to spot on of his victims. It was a American soldier, he lay a few feet from the hole. He was in his mid twenties and Lerner might have seen him once or twice in the field. Maybe the man had a family, a wife, children. Maybe he'd thought about them in the battle, fighting because of that thought. Fighting to get back one day. As they all wanted.

But the soldier laying before him would never go back, or in a body bag. There wouldn't be any joy for him. Hollow eyes looked up to the sky, watching but with no gaze. His mouth was open, letting out a last silently scream. The body lay in a pool of his own blood, the gun just a few inches from his stiff fingers.

"O glory may die within you, fight lonesome soldier, may there be some justice for your sorrows. Be with God and watch over another Brother of the Field." He spook very soft and touched the little cross of his rosary. It was a line he'd heard an older soldier say one day when his best bud had died. The words had gave him some comfort that moment and ever time after he saw a soldier that passed away.

Between two trees lay another soldier, his head resting on a rock, skull cracked. Man probably slipped. A quick way to get it all over with, not that painful, no squirming for hours until there was not enough blood for your heart to functioned.

Lerner looked away and it was a good thing his stomach was empty.

"Is it safe?" Mosh asked from beneath.

"For now." Lerner answered short and climbed out of the hole. Nothing moved around him, not even the wind seemed to dare touch the leaves of the trees.

He helped the boy climbing and pulled him out, while he tried to pick up some sound. Anything that would give him the smallest hint that someone had survived other then them.

"You think there hiding too?" Mosh asked nervously.

"Depends on who you think is hiding." His voice sounded surprisingly calm, but in his head he was as worried and nervous as Mosh was.

Suddenly Mosh let out a soft cry, he'd spotted the dead American. Frightened he stepped back and grabbed his wrist.

"T-that guy was in my platoon, w-we played cards a few times…" Simple words, with much emotion behind it, as memories. Lerner knew that feeling, like every soldier that saw a friend die or had to close a body bag. Every dead was a lost and hard to go through, because of the 'what ifs', the guild and the somehow the feeling of victory. Because you survived it, but for how long?

"Don't think about it to much." He pulled his sleeve lose and he hated the hard tone in his voice and the way he acted like a jerk. But that was life out here, you needed to be cold and strong. "We have to get moving, back to base." The boy only nodded and couldn't keep his eyes of the dead.

"Move, Mosh, don't stay standing there!" He snapped and bit his tongue, he hated that he sounded like Barnes. He hated it even more he felt like Barnes, don't look, don't ask walk your way and be like a rock. 'Barnes…' A quick flame of hate rushed throw his body. 'I hope he died, hope it hurt.' Bitterness tasted in his dry mouth and he swallowed. 'Think clear, don't get shot now, Alligator.'

Mosh slowly started to unfreeze and came running after Lerner, trusting him to lead the way. To be honest Lerner had no clue where he was going. Last night had been a blur that he didn't want to remember at all. But the bodies started to grow, so they must be getting close, he figured.

Mosh walked behind him and kept silent, only made a soft noise once or twice after they passed a body. He watched the boy a few times without showing it. But the few looks gave him enough information what he was feeling. His face was pale, as he hadn't seen the sun in ten years, giving his eyes even more the panda-look. He knew Mosh wanted to close his eyes but knew the consequence of that, so he kept his eyes wide open even when it hurt.

Somehow the bodies didn't infect Lerner that much, he saw, he noticed and kept it in. He'd seen it time after time and after a while it made you cold. Like you took the pain, you took the view. You needed that to keep sane, or drugs and alcohol. Some choose for the bullet after to much.

Survival instinct kept him up his toes, kept him walking without a pause even when his shoulders screamed for some rest and his feats started to tremble. The gun felt heavy in his hand he wasn't sure he was able to aim in time.

After a few minutes, that felt more like hours, he spotter the ruin of the armoury barrack.

"We made it!" He made a wild gesture with his gun, let out the breath he hold and started to run down. Leaves slapped in his face, he almost tripped but it didn't make him stop running or slow down. He was to glade to be back, in safety.

That feeling changes drastically.

'It's all gone, all gone.' His heart sunk in his boots and he quickly grabbed a tree so he wouldn't fall down.

RedFort was destroyed. It was gone, all gone. A few parts of the barracks where still smouldering and the standing pieces of wood creaked as the wind blow by. Giants gaps the size of big trucks where the only remains of the other barracks, they where completely vanished. And the bodies… so _many_ bodies, a hundred and a hundred more lay around the field. Some missing parts, like arms and legs. Some missed there face, it was shot off, made them unrecognisable. Only there tag would identify them, if the gooks hadn't stool them. The two enemies lay spread through each other, somehow bonded because they where all gone, dead.

One soldier lay with his stomach open, organs exposed. Vultures already feasting off it, soon the smell would kick in.

His eyes rest on a man that was still alive, it was a ally. He hold his stomach, his fingers trying to push the blood back in. He made a sound, ragging. It hit him, it was the mans breathing or what was left from it. It sounded like a broken engine, jamming to start. He coughed and spit. Blood, dark and crimson.

His sore legs started to move, he didn't want to, but he got forced to get closer to the man. He walked until he stood just in front of the man, his boots almost touching his sole. The man blinked, feeling his shadow in front of the hot sun and opened his eyes.

There was relieve. _Finally, they came_, the eyes said. But as the moments went by the expression changes, _He came alone_. A blink and the eyes started to water. _Please!_

He knew that gaze, he knew what the man wanted him to do. His eyes never left the face of the barely breathing man, he sank to his knees and picked up a gun. A M-1911 handgun, just out of reach of the soldier. He stood up, his shadow fell over the face of the man. He was barely breathing too, he watched as his hand reached out. His index finger found the trigger.

The eyes blinked. _It's okay, do it. _

His hand started to tremble. 'This is a soldier, a friend.' He closed his eyes and took a better grip. 'I'm a killer, murderer, slayer. _Who am I_?!' He bit his lip firmly, the breathing of the soldier still ragging throw the air. 'What happened to Gator? Where is Alligator-boy, they kid that loved swimming in the Trinity. _Who am I_?!'

His shoulders lowered he looked down ashamed, tears flashing in his eyes. "I'm sorry… I _can't_!"

He turned around and run away, feeling two eyes burn in his back and hearing the ragging breathing over and over, but was it from the man or did he hear it in his head? He jumped back into the bushes, back under the trees as if the devil was chasing him. He run so fast and didn't other to look up. Until he run into Mosh, fearful he looked up. The shock and absolute horror must be so readable from his face.

"W-what's going on?" The boy asked staring at him as if he was a corps that came back alive.

He made an attempt to tell him what he'd seen down there, he wanted to describe the pictures that whirled throw his mind so they might disappear if he spook them out loud.

No words came, only tears. The dead man with his organs all around him, vultures that gave him a meaningful look, the smell that slowly started to be noticed, the blood, the ragging breathing… and the eyes, o god the eyes…

His knees buckled and he landed on the ground, with his eyes closed but still surrounded by images, the smell still so fresh in his mind he could swear he was still down there.

'Jesus, how… I… I can't… get it out!' He tried to keep himself apart and buried his face in his hands in a weak attempt to make it go away.

The footsteps of Mosh came into his direction, stopped and turned around.

In a flash he was back on his feet. "Don't! _Don't _go there!" He grabbed the boy in a rush, almost jumped on him, getting a good grip around his collar. "It's… it's all _gone_! You _don't _want to see that place! It's…" He stopped.

Images, -ragging breathing, eyes wide open, blood, and the smell… smell-

He let go of Mosh and grabbed his stomach. Slowly he sank down his knees again. 'Wont puke. Not now!'

He didn't, so he sat down to find peace of mind.

For a very long time it was silent, still no birds, almost no wind, nothing. He hated that it made it so real… down there, like even nature was holding her breath.

Mosh, not having move a inch finally broke the silence. "Where should we go?"

He spat on the ground. "I dunno, but where not going, _there._" He gestured to the formal camp, not looking at it. "I'm not… It's…"

"I understand." Mosh helped him.

'No you don't, you don't have any idea.' He thought lost. 'But thanks for saying it.'

"We can't stay here." He dared to peek to the camp for a moment. "There is no radio, there is nothing. So it could take days until anyone showed up. The stench will-" He cut himself off. "We have to go."

"Let's go to the East. That's where the choppers came from." Mosh pointed out. It sounded like a reasonable plan, considering that his plan was screaming for help.

"And what about the other survivors? Should we wait for them, or go looking?" Mosh asked.

"No. If we find some we'll join them. But where not staying and where not trying to help down there." Lerner decided quick.

"But-"

"Mosh, we _are _going. Now!" He snapped. The boy bit his lip and his eyes lingered to the destroyed camp below.

'It's naïve and stupid of him to think we can save one of them down there. If they can't walk they can't be saved. He was no doctor, they had no drugs not even bandages. Taking someone with them would be suicide. It would hold them up and slowed them down. And what about water, food or shelter? He lost his backpack, the only few things he had where is clothes, his rifle and the handgun of the soldier. Not a map, no basic survival stuff. They had nothing.

Finally, reality started to kick in. There they where, just two soldiers, one barely an adult the other just a teen that had been out here for a not much more then a month. They where alone, with nothing, in a jungle dangerous itself. And the gooks, what about them? He had no idea where the slit-eyes where or with how many they would be.

He'd fought, that had been his goal, his mission. And now he had to fight again, both of them, to stay alive.

**I told you it was going to be ugly. Some part of me must be really morbid. Then again I make no sense at all, one moment I'm writing about death, the next about a cute couple. **

**If you review I mighta hurry up.**

**Nuky**


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